I'd Rather Die
by A New Username
Summary: It was only years later that Kyouya Sakura would seriously come to regret the things he said about females way back in the day. Too bad it took becoming one himself in order to realize how stupid and arrogant he had been. (Yuri, eventual Kyou/Homu, rating will likely change to M in the future.)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**

 **So, this is the story I mentioned in an earlier update. But most of you readers probably didn't come from that archive, so I'll just give you the gist of this thing.**

 **First off, no magic in this AU. It's closer to sci-fi, but not an action-y sci-fi.**

 **Second off, yuri, in all its obvious glory. But I'm sure most of you are cool with that. There's also going to be some het, though not as a focus. More as a side element to move the plot than anything else.**

 **Third, one of the main characters in this story** _ **used to be male**_ **. That's where the sci-fi stuff comes into play, but I'll bring you up to speed on that through narration.**

 **Fourth, some characters might be a bit OOC. Different circumstances lead to different personalities, and I haven't read the manga or watched the anime, so I'm basing personalities off what I read on Dynasty Reader.**

 **Fifth, this story is rated M for a reason. There are actually more than one. Obviously, there's sexual content, but here's what'll turn half the readers away: there will be attempted rape in this story. It won't be right away, but it's in the outline. Figured I'd say it flat out so I didn't get some readers pissed at me later on down the road.**

 **If you're still reading this, then congrats! You've just made my "least prejudiced readers" list! I hope you enjoy the story!**

* * *

I'd Rather Die

Chapter One: Additional Living Expenses

" _In recent news, the birth rates of the countries that began implementing the countermeasure one year ago have shown notable growth, as reported by a Japanese analyst of the subject. Through the rather controversial process of—"_

With a click of the remote in her hands, the stoic girl before me turned off the TV, eyes moving to meet those of the girl that just walked into the house through the open backdoor – me, that is.

Her violet eyes looked me up and down, before the turned her gaze towards her front room, making her long, ebony hair sway around a bit. Without a hint of emotion in her tone, she dismissed me.

"Did the 'no solicitors' sign on my front door give you the impression that entering the back would be any more acceptable?"

I took a swig of the soda bottle in my right hand, making a bitter face before swallowing. "Do I _really_ look like a door-to-door saleswoman to you, Homura?"

"Your clothes stretch the thought a bit," she replied, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. The glare that met her side glance caused her to turn to me fully, a crooked half-smile growing on her face. "Of course not. I'd recognize that ratty green hoodie anywhere."

This reevaluation of my appearance and attire made me frown. "It's the only top back home that still fits me, so I just threw it on with some baggy jeans before coming over."

Her eyes widened a fraction as she stared at my chest for a moment. "So you're telling me that there's nothing on under your jacket?"

Her tone, a cross between mild shock, scolding, and slight embarrassment (only noticeable to people that knew her different versions of stoicism to be different emotions), irked me a bit. My frown evolved into a scowl as I looked towards the ground, kicking at a stray, empty soda can with my bare foot.

"At least I zipped it up," I defended my case weakly. Even I knew that it wasn't a proper defense, but it was the only thing I had. "And besides, I told you that nothing else would fit. I wore nothing but muscle shirts before I left, you know that."

"Fair enough," was her initial flat reply. But then, her eyes actually showed a bit of nervousness, a feeling that I almost never saw in the girl. "Wait… please tell me you at least have a bra on under there."

My eyes closed with a 'tsk' sound before I took another swig of the contents of my soda bottle. Once again, I forced myself to ignore the slight burning in my throat. Unfortunately, my face betrayed me yet again, making me grimace. This time, Homura took notice, and the topic changed, much to my relief.

"What are you drinking?" she asked me, her voice slightly less emotionless than usual. "It can't be a regular soda."

"Just my lifeblood," I replied casually, causing the ebony-haired girl to tilt her head in confusion. I sighed, beginning to elaborate. "I have to drink a bottle of this stuff about three times a day, otherwise I'll get sick and then kick the bucket. Unfortunately, it tastes damn nasty, and has the burn of wicked alcohol."

"You don't seem that concerned," she gave me a hard look.

"The only thing I _should_ be concerned about is the price," came my annoyed response, followed by a great sigh. "Just a week's worth of this stuff costs as much as a fighter jet."

This bit of information gave me the satisfaction of watching my best friend choke. "Then just how are you going to pay for it?"

I could already see in her eyes that she was going to try to get her rather loaded family to pay for it. A hard feat in itself, considering that the main house all but cut her off for her preferences, only paying for her living expenses out of duty.

"Relax, it's no big deal," I casually denied her plan, waving a hand dismissively. "Well, normally, it would be. But, after taking into account my background, they decided to supply it to me for free, on one condition."

"And what would that be?" She could tell from the annoyed look on my face that it wasn't exactly one I would prefer.

"Well, I'm lucky enough to get the first month's supply for free anyway, meaning I don't have to rush in," I told her, sighing once again. "But, after that, it's do or die. Literally."

"You still haven't told me." Homura seemed quite annoyed that I had delayed my answer.

It felt like the millionth time I sighed that day. "Let me say that I would never do this if I had a choice, but—"

"Get on with it!"

In all my years of knowing her, I had never seen Homura get this mad over _anything_. Quite honestly, her raised voice and seething expression scared the hell out of me, given my current condition. At the same time, I felt a bit touched that she seemed to care that much about me.

Eventually, the fear won over. "R-right. Well, the thing is…" the glare on her face only served to remind me that, if I didn't tell her soon, then I would probably die long before an eventual lack of 'lifeblood' got to my system.

"In order to keep my access to the supply, I kind of have to… start going to school."

When I turned my gaze, which had gravitated to the floor on its own, up to meet hers, I found her anger diminished. We maintained eye contact for God knows how long, both of us seeming to think that all we needed to keep an intelligent conversation going was eye contact and periodic blinking.

I silently cursed myself when I broke our locked gaze, feeling like I had just lost a staring contest. But I had to look at the time on my wristwatch, to make sure I was still within the time period for drinking my 'lifeblood'. I noted that I only had a minute left, making me look to my half-full bottle with much fright.

 _I'm gonna have to… chug it…!_ The thought alone repulsed me, but I knew I had no choice in the matter; the active ingredient from last dose would stop functioning entirely in a min— no, now it was less than a minute.

With great willpower, I raised the transparent soda bottle to my lips once again, preparing to chug the absolute worst liquid I had ever tasted to date. I knew this stuff was too valuable to waste, but that didn't stop the bitter face I made when the burning liquid touched my lips.

At last, I began to drink. It took every ounce of willpower I had to not spit it right back out or even outright _vomit_. It felt like hours went by as I gulped the nasty substance down, making me wonder if this torturous scorching experience would ever end.

 _Of course it won't,_ I reminded myself. _I have to deal with this for the rest of my life._

At last, after opening my watery eyes with much effort, I saw the last of the accursed liquid cascade from the bottle and into my mouth. With one, final gulp, I finished the bottle, doing my best to keep from shouting a string of expletives at the blazing agony currently engulfing my mouth and throat.

It was with all my vocal power that I found myself choking out a strained and raspy, "I… need… a chaser…!"

And yet, despite my desperation, the shock to my system from ingesting so much at once caused my muscles to weaken for just a moment, making me fall to my hands and knees, gasping for breath. The sudden impact caused my ponytail to come undone, sending locks of crimson hair cascading down my back and over my sides.

I briefly wondered when my hair had grown so much, but stopped when I felt a cold glass being pushed up to my cheek. "Drink," a worried and irritated voice commanded, making me tilt my head upwards to meet the unreadable gaze of Homura Akemi.

 _It's always bad when I can't judge her expression at all._

I parted my lips slightly, afraid that I would fall if I tried to move up even one of my hands to take the glass. She seemed to notice my plight, and she put the glass to my lips before tilting it upwards, sending cold, refreshing, _soothing_ water down my throat.

The relief was immediate, and after a few seconds, I felt the strength return to my body. I sat up, brushing some of my unexpectedly long hair back over my shoulder while looking for the hair tie. I spotted it just out of my reach, cringing at its state.

 _It snapped…_

I felt as if a little part of me had died now that it was gone, because this would make it considerably harder to eat without my hair getting in the way.

 _Speaking of hair…_

"When did my/your hair get so long?"

Our eyes sought out each other once again as we wondered what just happened. Our blinking conversation never got the chance to resume, however, as we both heard the sound of someone else coming through the back door. Both of our eyes turned to the disturbance, finding…

 _Wait… who is this?_

For the record, this girl with light blue hair that looked to be about mid-back-length, sporting a white T-shirt and dark blue denim shorts, didn't seem to recognize me, either as we, too, had a short blinking match.

It took me a minute, but I finally realized who this this girl was just as Homura confirmed it.

"Is the concept on knocking on my front door _alien_ to you people?" she queried, sending the new intruder a hard look before turning it on me.

This, in turn, caused the blue-haired girl, whose countenance seemed unaffected by Homura's snark, to look at me as well. After a few more seconds of staring, a smirk grew on her face, and she turned to Homura with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"So, you finally got tired of waiting for an answer from Madoka, and turned to another girl for sexual release, huh?"

 _Suddenly, I feel like puking all over again._

Before the raven-haired girl could formulate an angry retort, I decided to make my identity known. "First off, hell no," I said, giving both of them a glare before continuing. "And second, am I really that forgettable, Sayaka?"

Said blunette looked over to me again. "I'm sorry, who are…?" and finally, a spark of recognition registered in her eyes. "Kyouya?!"

I couldn't resist the urge to smirk. I looked over to Homura, almost cracking up as I said my next words. "Hey, she figured it out! Somebody give her a medal!"

Even my violet-eyed best friend couldn't help but crack a smile at my words, especially when we both turned to Sayaka and saw _her_ reaction.

"Shut up!" she shouted, giving me the most menacing stare she could muster. Considering what had just happened, there wasn't much impact. "How could I recognize you at this point? The only thing that looks the same as a year ago is your hair color!"

Somehow, I found myself looking over to a mirror conveniently located on the wall next to the hallway. She was right; my facial structure had changed and become more feminine, my hair was somehow down to my waist, and my figure was much less muscular and more slim, aside from the two specific reasons why my old, tight-fitting muscle shirts would no longer fit comfortably.

 _This is the first time I've looked in a mirror in months, but it definitely doesn't comfort me to know how different I look._

I decided to mask my surprise. "And yet I look similar enough for you to recognize me after hearing me speak, even though my voice is different, too."

Sensing that the argument would probably only degenerate from here, Homura decided to butt in. "So, back to an earlier topic," unfortunately, the topic she chose was one that I would rather not have brought up with Sayaka within a three-kilometer radius. "Please tell me you have a bra on under that jacket."

If looks could kill, she would've been dead in an instant. I knew exactly what she was doing; she was trying to get me out of her hair by way of…

"You seem to think that I never wash my clothes," I retorted, looking anywhere but at either of my two tormentors. "The one they sent me home in is in the washer, and they expected me to get more by myself."

Unfortunately, this was the last nail in the coffin. The moment I turned to fearfully analyze Sayaka's reaction, I found her excited eyes not ten centimeters from my own.

 _No…_

"I've decided!" she exclaimed. I already knew where this was leading, but it didn't stop me from praying for _anything else_.

 _Please, please, no!_

I backed away on impulse immediately after her shout, only to feel her hand take my right wrist into a death grip. It took everything I had not to cry out in pain, the lingering weakness in my body ensuring that my hand would turn blue before I gave in and shouted.

Though I knew it wasn't wise, I decided to take the bait. "D-decided what?" My stutter was not from nervousness; rather, the increasingly intense pain on my wrist had me almost in tears.

 _Damn, my body is weak now. The worst part of it is that it's not just from the drink._

"We're going shopping!" my unwitting blue-haired tormentor proclaimed.

I knew that this was my fate the very moment Homura brought up my current state of dress. Even so, it didn't make finally being faced head-on with the reality any less piercing. My pride as a man had just taken the fatal blow.

I turned to Homura as the blunette began dragging me out of her house. Her small, smug smile was met with a harsh glower. Said glower undoubtedly translated to exactly this: _If I don't die from over-stimulation today, I'm going to kill you._

It saddened me to know that the effectiveness of such a stare had now lessened considerably. This fact was proven by her reaction, being the subtle widening of her smirk.

I thought one last thing before the vice grip on my arm dragged me out Homura's backdoor.

 _This is gonna be a long-ass day._

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **Any of my longtime readers from the SAO side probably saw a drop in quality here. This thing is months old, with only a few edits being made here and there to bring the grammar in check. But I finished it and never published it about four months back, so it's not really up to my current standards.**

 **That said, I'll accept any and all non-blatant-flame critiques I get. This thing might deserve to get blasted, I'm not sure. I just figured it had been collecting dust for too long, so I decided to post it.**

 **Anyway, I do plan to continue this… eventually. It might be a while. But when I do update it, the next few chapters will definitely be far, far better than this one.**

 **I'll let you go for now. Hopefully, this will manage to do okay!**

 **See you later!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**

 **This chapter concludes the introductory few chapters. There will be a bit more explained about the situation later, but for now, just enjoy this if you can.**

 **I decided to go with the "(M)Kyouko and Homura are best bros" theme as the start of this story, in case you didn't get the memo. I've seen it done well a few times, so I wanted to try it myself.**

 **But anyway, no M-rated stuff this chapter. That'll probably be at least seven more chapters, assuming I make it that far.**

 **Well, I'll let you read now. See you at the bottom note!**

* * *

I'd Rather Die

Chapter Two: Studies of a NEET/First Morning

* * *

 _"We're going shopping!" my unwitting blue-haired tormentor proclaimed._

 _I knew that this was my fate the very moment Homura brought up my current state of dress. Even so, it didn't make finally being faced head-on with the reality any less piercing. My pride as a man had just taken the fatal blow._

 _I turned to Homura as the blunette began dragging me out of her house. Her small, smug smile was met with a harsh glower. Said glower undoubtedly translated to exactly this:_ If I don't die from over-stimulation today, I'm going to kill you.

 _It saddened me to know that the effectiveness of such a stare had now lessened considerably. This fact was proven by her reaction, being the subtle widening of her smirk._

 _I thought one last thing before the vice grip on my arm dragged me out Homura's backdoor._

This is gonna be a long-ass day.

* * *

"So booored…" I drawled out as long as possible, laying my head down on the table. My eyes closed slowly, and I almost fell asleep, the afternoon heat having gotten the best of me, when—

"Head up, Kyouya. You need to finish this before school starts," the bane of my current existence appeared from the kitchen with two glasses of water. Homura Akemi, my best friend (when we didn't want to mutilate each other), the girl who had somehow gotten me accepted into her all-girls' private high school. When I asked her how the hell she swung it, she refused to tell me, only presenting me with a tree's worth of the dreaded sheets of paper I had been told were 'homework'.

"I've never even _gone_ to school, Homura," I drew out every syllable of her name slightly longer than usual. Unfortunately, I was far too tired and bored to raise my voice, so the words came out as a high-pitched moan. "Let alone a school made just for the more brutal gender."

"Which you are now," my friend didn't hesitate to remind me of my worst nightmare and how it had effectively come true. The third lethal blow my man's pride had taken in three days. The first was with Sayaka and her drive to make me buy women's underwear (and we ended up buying a _lot_ more against my will), and the second had been when some dudes the male me used to know decided to hit on the 'new girl in town' the next day. I promptly walked off on those assholes before they recognized the rare crimson hair color as that of their ex-bud, Kyouya. I had no desire of dealing with _that_ bed of needles.

"Screw off, Blackie," I drily retorted into the desk. "It's not like I wanted this. But I was parentless, and essentially had no rights in their desperate eyes."

"Less talking, more working," my slave-driver of a best friend cut me off before the self-pity party could continue.

"How do you people sit _still_ for so long?" I groaned into the desk, still too tired/bored to really shout. "This is like a torture device…"

"Usually, people have a whole month to do this much work," she informed me dutifully. "But your supply of that 'lifeblood' stuff runs out in two weeks, so you only have half of that before you have to start school to continue living."

The day before, I had informed Homura of the specifics of my predicament. As I had been home for almost two weeks, I only had about fifteen days before they cut off my access to the chemicals that kept my body from attacking itself. That meant I had two weeks to start going to school, or I would effectively die.

Therefore, she had worked a freaking miracle and somehow gotten me enrolled in her high school mid-term. I was the same age as Homura, so I would be going into second year as well, so long as I could prove my worth by completing this mountain of work in just a few weeks.

Her high school was actually rather small, despite being top-tier. She told me that there were only two classes for each grade, from primary school to the end of upper secondary school, or high school. Each class could hold a max of twenty-five kids, which meant that there were really only a hundred and fifty kids in the high school division – probably less, considering how rarely new students got accepted. With the rapidly-declining female birth rates all over the world and such strict requirements, it was no wonder it was such a small school, though.

"Don't remind me of that nasty stuff, I'm not due for another three hours…" I grumbled irritably as I finally raised my head to continue working. "God, I hope they start supplying it in pill form soon. I can take pills just fine with _normal freaking water_."

"Quit complaining about the substance that keeps you alive and in my hair," Homura reprimanded me in a rather confusing tone.

"Why do you make it sound like me being in your hair is a _good_ thing?" I asked her pointedly, giving the raven-haired girl a slightly nervous stare. I wasn't even sure I wanted to know the answer to this one. "Don't I always cause you trouble?"

"If you're stuck to me, Kyouya, then I don't have to worry about stupid things like whether you're safe." Was the instant reply I received.

Oh, right. I completely forgot why Homura became my best friend over all my other guy friends in the first place. She saw right through any and all lies that I would try to tell, she saw right into my heart as if it were a book for her to read. And even if she was quite blunt in how she mentioned it, she would always be the first to know I was upset. She was always the first to try to make it better.

"Damn, even as a… even as a girl, I still can't win against you." Though I said it with a strong touch of loss, I really felt kinda happy about it.

"You're stuck with me, Kyouya."

"I know, I know. But it's really not that bad, I guess. Losing to you, I mean."

The rest of the day was filled with a lot of procrastination, minimal progress on my schoolwork, and a slightly nicer best friend.

* * *

"Hey, Kyouya! Get up, it's time for school!"

I merely mumbled in response. Then came a sharp pain in my left side.

"Ouch!" I snapped, opening my eyes a fraction just in time to see Homura's shoe retract away from my left abdomen. "Did… did you just… kick me?"

"We have to get moving in thirty minutes, and you're barely even awake, let alone vertical," came the no-nonsense response. "Of course I'm going to use force to get you up."

"Ugh…" I groaned rather loudly, sitting partway up. "All right, I'm getting up. Just don't kick me again."

"Here, take this," my best friend ordered, putting something in my open left hand and putting a glass to my cheek.

It was then that things really started clearing up in my sleep-fogged brain. The thing she put in my hand was a pill. The hospital had told me that the new supply of my 'lifeblood' would be in pill form after I started school. This meant that I must have actually gotten accepted into Homura's school, despite only turning my work in through her at the very last minute.

So now the choice was mine: live in living hell or die and go to real hell. If it weren't for my best friend next to me, I probably would have chosen the latter option. But the thought of her mourning over me kinda bothered me, so I kept quiet and decided to take the pill as instructed.

I grabbed the glass of cool water, tilting it towards my mouth and downing a gulp's worth to keep in my mouth. I then put the pill in my mouth, swallowing it and the gulp of water whole.

"You'll have to take another one at lunch time, by the way," she reminded me with a slightly less impatient tone. "Go to the nurse's office for that."

"Gotcha," I groggily affirmed that I heard her. "I'm gonna go take a bath, okay? See you in fifteen."

* * *

A quick bath and change of clothes later, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, looking in disgust at my new school uniform that I just put on. It was a pink and white sailor-style uniform, but it showed off my belly if I so much as raised my arms, and the magenta pleated skirt barely went halfway past my thighs. Not to mention how tightly form-fitting it was at the chest… I had the sneaking suspicion that whoever designed this uniform must have been some kind of pervert.

"Stop hogging the bathroom, Kyouya." Came a complaint from outside.

"How can they expect me to wear this?" I complained right back. "It should be borderline indecent exposure!"

"This coming from the one who used to wear sleeveless muscle shirts and shorts every day," Homura reminded me of my past self at the worst possible time.

"At least I wore a _jacket_ with that getup!" I retorted weakly. Looking back on it, I wore things more revealing than this on a daily basis a year back. But at that point, things had been different. I was a muscular teenage _male_ back then, after all.

"Whatever you say, Kyouya. Now get out of the bathroom, we have to be at school in about ten minutes."

"How long does it take to get there?" I spoke through the door.

"Five minutes, plus four to get to the office for your first day."

I sighed, turning away from my reflection with a huff. There wasn't much I could do about it anyway, all things considered. I just had to pretend like the outfit _wasn't_ too skimpy for my tastes. If I didn't show that it bothered me, nobody else would think anything of it.

I opened the door to the bathroom, walking out fully ready to leave, minus my book-bag that Homura had bought for me. I had wondered why I couldn't just use my old ratty black backpack, but she had adamantly refused to entertain the thought without telling me exactly why.

"Finally," my violet-eyed best friend said on a large exhale. She looked me over, and a look of understanding dawned on her face. "Oh, it looks like your uniform is a size too small."

"Are you freaking _kidding_ me?!"

* * *

"By the way," Homura said, looking me in the eyes as we walked side by side to her school. "I had to tell them a different name when enrolling you."

" _What_?" I spat out, venom dripping off my solitary word before I continued. "Why would you need to do _that_?"

My best friend shook her head as if the answer were obvious. "You know, Kyouya is a boy's name. And we're going to an all-girls' school. There was no way I could give them your real name."

"Okay, so what did you change my name to?" I prayed to whatever god there was that it was a gender-neutral name. Sadly, no such luck.

"Kyouko Sakura. That's your name while you attend school."

"Homura…" I spoke in a quiet, deadly volume. She obviously noticed, but it had never intimidated her, even when I was a muscular boy. "Why did you change my name to something so _girly_? Why not something gender-neutral?"

"I went for something similar to your old name, but also something believably female."

I slapped a hand to my face and covered my eyes. This girl and I… how did we become best friends again? Seriously, I sometimes could name temperamental Rottweilers easier to get along with than her.

"Whatever," my one-word response didn't stay that way for long. "So, what kind of cover story did you use for enrolling me, anyway?"

Homura looked at me, an expression of genuine surprise on her face. "Why do you want to know?"

I scoffed at her surprise, mostly because I didn't understand its cause. "I figured I'd better know about my 'story' ahead of time to keep today's surprises to a minimum."

"Right… I just told them you're my friend from out of town who's staying with me for a while for family reasons, and asked them to accept you into the school if you showed you could do the work."

"Really?" I asked her, surprised by the simplicity of her cover story. "That's all? Nothing outlandish?"

"I wanted you to have a _believable_ cover story, not an impressive one," came my straightforward answer. Right, I forgot that Homura could be the queen of killjoys when she wanted to.

"Well, anything _else_ I should know?" I decided to ask for good measure.

"I told them you'd be interested in joining the track club."

 _Oh, shit._

Just a few minutes later, and I found myself staring down a large, white, ornate school building. Students were still filing into it with minutes to spare before the bell, and they all wore the same uniform that Homura and I did.

"This is it…" once again, my pride as a man took the fatal blow. This must have marked time number thirty, at the minimum. Here I was, about to start attending an all-girls' school. And everybody there would be none the wiser that I had once been a completely different gender… but that was to be expected. By all appearances and functions, I had essentially become a girl.

"Here's to a good school year… Kyouko."

"Why you…!"

Chasing my snickering best friend into an all-girls school, this is how my new life as a female began.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **Yeah, kind of a rushed end, I know. I wanted to finish about there, but I couldn't figure out how to make it flow better than what I just did.**

 **Anyway, questions, comments and concerns are all welcome! Just leave a review and I'll respond as soon as I have the time!**

 **Not much else to say, so I guess I'll just let you go. See you next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**

 **I think I remember why I wanted to split this chapter into two. Or rather, why I outlined it as two chapters. But I never found a good place to stop it, so I just kinda kept it all together. As such, I'm totally burnt out after writing more than 4000 words of this story.**

 **So yeah, this story clocked at 4500 words. About 2500 of those were written today, post twelve am. Due to my editing style (where every time I pick up something to work on, I edit the already-written content), which rarely has a final edit included, the majority of this chapter is un-edited. So yeah, sorry for any missing words/missing sentence capitalization/other miniscule errors that you may find.**

 **To my SAO followers, the next update will likely be for ALfheim Online: Path to Recollection. It will have a similar setup to this chapter, but likely only encompass about half what this one does. It'll be about 3000-4000 words by the end.**

 **For now, I'll just let you read on! see you at the bottom!**

* * *

I'd Rather Die

Chapter Three: Track Tryouts and New Dirt

 _Just a few minutes later, and I found myself staring down a large, white, ornate school building. Students were still filing into it with minutes to spare before the bell, and they all wore the same uniform that Homura and I did._

" _This is it…" once again, my pride as a man took the fatal blow. Here I was, about to start attending an all-girls' school. And everybody there would be none the wiser that I had once been a completely different gender… but that was to be expected. By all appearances and functions, I had essentially become a girl._

" _Here's to a good school year… Kyouko."_

" _Why you…!"_

 _Chasing my snickering best friend into an all-girls school, this is how my new life as a female began._

* * *

The main thing I learned in class wasn't anything related to the curriculum.

Weird, right? You come to school to learn stuff, but having been raised in an overly-religious family when I was younger, they didn't let me attend schools that valued science more than religion. Seeing as there were no Christian schools in my area, let alone Christian schools that weren't co-ed, that left me with just about zero schooling options. Even after my family died in a fire, I kept up the no-school tradition in order to avoid being the outcast for arriving on the scene years late.

Because of this, everything I saw was a completely new thing to me, and I spent much more time watching the other students than I did paying attention to the teachers. In particular, my raven-haired best friend, and how everyone else interacted with her. Or, more accurately, how everybody kept at an observational distance, as she just ignored their existence.

 _When did Homura become a zoo exhibit?_ Was a thought that plagued my mind multiple times in the day.

Let me repeat and clarify: the main thing I learned in class had nothing to do with the curriculum. Instead, I spent the whole time trying to figure out just what kind of attitude everybody kept towards my best friend.

The answer I got mystified me. When I analyzed the rather dazed gazes of those who watched her more often, they seemed to as if the people around her were too nervous to interact with her.

The atmosphere surrounding Homura was so stifling that I almost decided not to sit with her for lunch. Well, almost was the keyword there. I figured out right before lunch began that I could avoid the inevitable snow of questions from my classmates by sitting with the girl that nobody talked to.

So, before the desk of the mysterious new girl (moi) was surrounded by curious students who would ask about everything they thought to ask about, I hightailed it to my best friend's desk three rows back, sitting down in the now-vacant seat next to hers and pulling it closer. Of course, I also brought the lunch that Homura had made me that morning, opening it and starting to eat as soon as our desks connected.

"Yo, Homura," I said between bites as she spared me a glance. "You give off a real 'ice queen' vibe here, you know that?"

"Why do you think that?" she asked with what I could tell was barely-restrained sarcasm. It seemed she knew where she stood, and it also seemed that she didn't want to talk about it much.

"I just couldn't help but notice how half the class was looking at you, but none of them ever talked to you," I replied casually, loving that I had found a new way to get under Homura's skin. They didn't come often, let me tell you. "What, you famous here or something?"

"About as famous as the top-scorer on all the tests can be," she replied without missing a beat. However, the answer she gave me wasn't quite satisfactory.

"I dunno, that doesn't seem like the only reason," I pressed, knowing full well that almost the entire class's attention was directed towards us as we casually spoke. "The look in everyone's eyes didn't look like admiration of a top student when they looked at you."

"Kyouko, can we just talk about this later?" Finally, I knew I'd hit a nerve. "I'll explain it, but at home only. In _private_."

"Sure, sure," I decided that I should probably stop pushing my luck right about then. "I'm holding you to that, I hope you know."

"Go ahead," she said, finally back to her lax, emotionless self. "By the way, shouldn't you go to the nurse's office soon?"

 _Crap, the pill!_

The rest of lunch was filled with hurried eating and a quick (although still a bit late) visit to the nurse's office.

* * *

By the end of the day, I had run out of ways to describe how bored this giant, human-enforced torture device had made me. I had gotten past the 'everything is completely new to me' feeling shortly after lunch (because I had been promised an explanation from the main subject of my interest), and from then on, sleeping seemed the most interesting thing to do. But every time I came close, I felt something sting at the back of my neck, and I turned around just in time to see a folded up piece of paper fall to the ground behind my desk.

Every time I picked it up and unfolded it, a note appeared. 'Don't sleep in class, Kyouko-san.' That's what it always said. I always looked around behind me, but never found the culprit – everyone seemed to be paying perfect attention to the teacher's boring lesson.

I knew it couldn't be Homura. She would never add the –san, though she'd probably still call me 'Kyouko', just to annoy the hell out of me. That narrowed it down by one more person – it always came from behind me, and I was in the second row, so the first row of five was already out. Anybody next to me was out too, because the soft blow of folded paper always came from behind.

Unfortunately, my deductive reasoning only narrowed it down by ten people – eleven, if you count the teacher. There were still fifteen possible suspects. The only other hint I had to go on was that the paper folded up happened to be a vibrant pink in color, with some floral print towards the non-ripped edges of some of the folded notes. However, this didn't help – everybody's notebook was under their hands because the teacher had them taking notes, so I couldn't clearly make out similar details from anyone whose notebook was even slightly visible.

How annoying this day was turning out to be.

* * *

By the end of the day, I still hadn't narrowed it down any further. I decided to just go home and sleep it off (this place must have been filled with sleeping gas or something, because I had become ridiculously tired), but Homura redirected me to the running area, where the track club held meets. When I asked her why, I got this goody two shoes crap in response.

"All new first- and second-years have to join a club. And besides, you're really good at running, and you react fast."

Okay, those compliments were partially true. Back when I was a guy, I could run at record speed for short distances to evade pursuers… but that's only because I stole to live, and I would end up in juvenile detention or prison if I got caught. So it was more of a 'life and death' scenario to me. Everybody runs fast when their lives are on the line.

Conveniently (or inconveniently, depending on your outlook) enough, I came on one of their assigned meet days. The field was filled with runners, all sweaty and crap. Not something I wanted to put up with on a daily basis if I could help it.

But, unfortunately, this was all I could do right now. I couldn't think of any other clubs to go to because I didn't _know_ of any other clubs, and Homura wouldn't be home to let me in – she said she had to be somewhere for a while before she could go home. When I asked her what was keeping her, she was less than humanly responsive.

And so, here I was, checking out my first ever club, without anywhere to go (the key to my cheap-ass apartment was inside Homura's living room). At first, I didn't know who to go to, but I figured out who was telling everybody what to do after a few minutes of watching. I went up to that girl, a blonde by the looks of it, and began.

"Hey, I'm a new student here," I lamely informed her after getting her attention. "I'm here to try out for this club."

As she turned around to face me, I almost looked away out of embarrassment. This girl… this blonde had huge assets. Why the hell was she on a track team with those things?! Why didn't she choose something with less time-consuming activities so she could get out onto the town faster?!

After a brief analysis, she spoke in a light, airy voice. "But you're so skinny… you have almost no muscle…"

It was at that moment that I remembered a major part of the operation to turn me female. They actually decreased my muscle mass considerably, because I had been highly bulky before. This also meant that the muscles used for running had decreased greatly as well. Could I even still do it…?

"I get that a lot," I decided to cover up my insecurity with false confidence. "But would you mind holding off on your decision until you've seen me run?"

"Okay, then," the hot blonde with curled, golden pigtails conceded. Her amber eyes looked me over, then she asked, "What standard distance do you usually run?"

 _Shit._

I had no idea what the hell qualified as 'standard' for track. I knew there were short distance runners and long distance runners. As I was, I decided that long distance was out. I didn't have enough built-up running muscles for that. Short distance was how I used to evade cops when I stole, anyway – just run as fast as humanly possible for a really short amount of time – like, ten, eleven seconds – until you find somewhere to hide, then dive for it. Rinse, repeat, lose cops.

But the problem remained: how short was 'standard' for runners? I had no clue. I could probably run about a hundred-twenty meters at top speed before, but I doubted there would be one that perfectly-fitted to the old me, let alone the new, weaker me.

"Well, what do you have for short-distance running?" I finally forced out a question of an answer.

The blonde looked at me with a rather odd expression, before pointing to a long, straight stretch of rubbery pavement with lines dividing it the long way. "That's the track for the hundred-meter dash. It's one of the shortest for competitive racing."

I smiled. A hundred meters? I could swing that easy. The only question would be how much slower I would be, after the operations. Probably a few seconds at most, I figured.

"I'll try that," I decided, and for the next few minutes, I spent the whole time trying not to psych myself out of it.

* * *

Standing before the track of the hundred-meter dash, I couldn't help but notice that the average time for the others running it seemed about fourteen seconds, maybe a little less. This wouldn't have seemed intimidating at all if it weren't for the fact that the last time I ran, my muscles had built up around running and weight-lifting, and now that extra muscle was all gone.

I stood on the far left side, since most of the hundred-meter runners on the actual team took the right. There were about ten sections on the hundred-meter dash track, so I didn't have to feel cramped. The blonde stood at the other end of the track, a stopwatch in her hand.

"Ready?" she asked me in a loud, light voice.

"Whenever!" I replied, getting into position. I had never really gotten into a position to start running before, so it felt stiff and awkward to bend down so much. But I had seen the other runners do it a lot in the past several minutes, so I just emulated them in hopes it would better my time slightly.

"Three… two… one…" she counted down. I tensed my muscles – well, what was left of them – for a running jump.

"Go!"

The moment that single word left the blonde's mouth, I leapt onto the track and began running at top speed towards the other side. However, this 'top speed' surprised even myself.

I moved even faster than I had before the operations. Almost as if the few muscles I did have were somehow stronger, faster than normal.

I then remembered a secondary effect of the operation to remove most of my muscle mass. They had considerably strengthened the ones that remained, in order for me to still be able to walk and pick stuff up normally like before, without as many muscles as I was used to. An unintended side effect of that seemed to be that those strengthened muscles were ten times more suited to running.

I felt incredibly light as I raced across the track, and the feeling only exhilarated me to push myself even harder, to run even faster. My body responded to my will, and my speed increased more than I thought possible.

All too soon, it was over. I reached the other end of the track before I had even begun to enjoy the feeling of the friction with the light breeze making my long, crimson hair flow behind me. I panted lightly for a few seconds, but I didn't feel all that exhausted. I felt like I could do it again and again. I felt like I could go even faster next time.

Once I caught my breath, I turned to the blonde. "How'd I do?" I asked her tentatively, knowing that the sprint hadn't really been my fastest.

"There's no way… this can't be right…" she said in a hushed tone. Disbelief shone in her amber eyes, and I was tempted to ask if my time was really _that_ bad before she spoke again. "10.76 seconds… I've never seen anything like this before!"

"In a good way, or a bad way?" the way she said my time with wonder in her light voice made me question whether my running really _was_ bad.

"That's barely a quarter second away from the women's world record!" she nearly shouted, her amber eyes suddenly sparkling like pure gold and dazzling the hell out of me. "How did you _do_ that? Who taught you to run?"

 _Oh, shit._

This was _not_ how I wanted things to go. After what the blonde just shouted, everyone's eyes were on me. Publicity was the last thing a former thief wanted to attract. The more the public eye falls on you, the more it finds out. And I needed my whole life up until a year ago to remain secret.

"I, uh…" I _really_ didn't know how to deal with this kind of attention. The positive kind, where people look at you in awe and shit. I just did _not_ know how to handle it. "Can we, uh…"

"Tomoe-senpai, you're scaring the new recruit!" a shout of defense came from one of the girls around me.

In an instant, the blonde calmed down a notch or two. Everybody else seemed to get the hint and turn back to what they were doing, much to my relief. I almost started to relax a little, when—

A soft pair of hands gripped my small ones and held them up in front of me. It took me a moment to register the incredibly close presence of the blonde, who seemed to have no regard for personal space as she stood within centimeters of me. "Please join our club. It would be an honor to manage someone as fast as you."

I shrunk back a little, then replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'll join this club on one condition."

"And that is…?" The hope shining in her amber eyes almost blinded me. I had to look away, so I looked down, and the unfortunate result was that it made me look like a pervert… wait, did it? To everyone else, I was surely a girl. And girls seem to get touchy-feely really often. So looking at that area… was it normal now? Was it still weird in another way? I couldn't tell.

In time, I realized I had to tell her my condition. I looked her in the eyes again, squinting to avoid blindness, and spoke in as level a tone as I could muster, given my current mental state.

"None of what I do goes public. I don't enter into competitions. If I break any records, nobody in the club says a word. We have a deal?"

That was quite possibly the longest I had spoken at once since becoming a girl in body. I watched her face as I spoke, and it almost seemed like she didn't care about any of those things. It kinda felt hard to believe, but I guess a lot of things had been that way lately.

"No problem!"

* * *

That club (or team, whatever) had people that were easy to get along with, I had to give 'em credit. The one that timed me, a third year named Tomoe Mami, was really like the club's mother. Apparently, her seniors decided to make her team captain, whatever that meant, because she had been such a motherly character.

There were a few others of merit, but the only one I went away remembering the name and appearance of was Mami. Somehow, she just really… really left an impression. Possibly because my real mom had been dead for more than half my life, and this was the closest somebody had come to replacing her. But for Christ's sake, she was only a year older than me! Stupidity, it comes in all shapes, sizes and hair colors. Personally, I always assumed it was a redhead.

Well, after I finished formalizing all the club forms and stuff, I figured I should head on back to Homura's place, where I had spent my past two weeks – only to realize that I forgot my bag in the classroom.

Which brings us to the here and now. I found my way to my class with moderate speed for my second time in the building, and I made my way into the now-empty room in a calm saunter.

I marveled for a second at how different the room seemed when nobody else was in it. The sun had just begun to turn red in preparation for the sunset about five minutes prior, casting an orange-gold glow onto everything through the empty room's open windows. The glow of the soon-to-be-setting sun bathed everything in an ethereal presence, and the overwhelming sense of serenity I felt almost made me think of—

"What the hell am I doing?!"

No. No, no, no, no freaking way in hell. My _body_ may have become female, but my mind was still a guy's mind! I couldn't have thoughts like this, not in a million years! I needed to get my bag and leave before things got any worse!

I quickly made my way to my desk in the middle of the second row. My bag was there. I kept reminding myself to get it and go home (well, to Homura's home) before enjoying a sunset turned to freaking flower viewing.

I picked it up, but I couldn't resist taking one, final look around the golden-orange-dyed room. I tried to tell myself that the place didn't have any interesting points, and failed via my own mind coming up with counter-arguments, before—

"Huh? What's that?" Something in a desk two rows behind me and one to the left caught my eye.

I walked closer, abandoning the thought of leaving so soon. The item on that desk, left there by its owner, appeared to be…

"A notebook?"

Not just a notebook. A _pink_ notebook. With _floral patterns_ on the cover.

Instantly, remembrance flashed through my mind. Earlier that day, I had received a dozen neck blows minimum from the same-colored paper, with the same floral designs. That was it! I had found my enemy, the destroyer of dreamland herself!

I rushed over the remaining distance, grabbing the accursed book in my hands. From the feel alone, I could tell that several pages were torn out.

Yes! I had found her! From what I remembered, the girl sitting at this desk was a girl with pig-tailed strawberry blonde hair. Only, there was so little blonde added that you'd think she had pink hair at first glance. How weird of the studious dream-destroyer to leave something so important here.

I couldn't resist. Even though I knew that the thing probably had academic notes in it, it just somehow gave off the 'reading forbidden' air of… a diary, or something. I had to read it, if only to confirm my suspicions.

I flipped that sucker open, going through page after page of writing without reading it. I wanted to find the most recent entry into this thing. As I page-flipped, however, I couldn't help but catch the occasional word here and there. Among the words that were repeated a lot, but would never be used in any class but sex education, were words like, 'cute', 'sexy', 'easily-flustered', and others that I'd rather not repeat. I also noted with great interest how often the name 'Homura' came up.

"Homura, how far have you fallen…?" I absentmindedly wondered aloud how my best friend had started associating with people who loved to desecrate trips to dreamland.

Then, finally, I arrived at the most recent entry. Marked with today's date, a whole page of words lay before me, each paragraph marked with a different time of day. I began invading this person's privacy at once, with no regard for the sketchy morals of my actions. I started at the time closest after I introduced myself to the class, trying to get right to any parts relevant to me.

 _8:15: The new transfer student is so cute! She came in as calm as I had ever seen a transfer student, wrote her name, introduced herself, and then gave a dazzling smile to everyone! I swear I saw a fang in her smile, it was so adorable!_

Oh, right. I had momentarily forgotten that I was stuck in a room full of people of the same physical gender as me, and had given them all the same smug smile I used to pick up chicks as a guy. Total failure, I told myself afterward, but apparently the smile still worked, somehow. Unfortunately, it still worked on the gender I now matched. Talk about failure of failures…

Then again, I still had the mind of a straight guy. Which meant I liked girls still. So wouldn't that mean things played out in my favor? After all, I don't think I could have stomached a guy hitting on me right then, so maybe this made me a… no. Not going to ponder that one just yet.

 _Just continue reading…_ I told myself before things went too far south in my head. I skipped ahead a few, to around lunch time.

 _12:00: When did Homura and Kyouko become friends?! That redhead just walked over to Homura with zero hesitation at the start of lunch and started talking to her… I've never seen anybody do that after realizing Homura's position in this class, and Kyouko has been looking over in her direction all day long! And then they just started talking as if they were best friends… I need to investigate this further._

Hah! So Pinkie didn't see that one coming, eh? Somehow, I felt like I had outsmarted someone really clever. I quickly shrugged the feeling off and read the next note.

 _1:00: Kyouko totally almost fell asleep in class! I tore a paper from the back of this journal and wrote a message on it, then folded it and threw it at her to see if it'd wake her up. And man, was that a bull's-eye! I hit her right in the neck! But wow, she reacts fast. That girl shot up like lightning, found the paper and read it, and looked around everywhere behind her in just two seconds! I almost didn't have time to make myself look like I was paying attention to the teacher! In the end, it was a solid victory, though. Madoka one, Kyouko zero._

The rest of the notes were all about the various times she pulled the neck-shot stunt, and my 'lightning-fast' reactions each time. She started calling it kinda cute after the fourth time, and adorable after the seventh. And each time, she put a score of wins for each of us. Mine stayed consistently at zero, whereas hers kept increasing.

By the eighth note about neck-shooting, I decided to just close the book and go home. I had a new plan in mind: this time, I would skip the floundering about the paper and look directly at her the moment it hit my neck. I might suffer some form of whiplash from fast neck movements, but it would be a small price to pay for a score-evening.

As I left the classroom's now-fully orange glow, I heard the sound of quiet footsteps coming from behind me and moving into the room I just exited. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the pink-haired girl – Madoka, was it? She said that name in the diary – had just gone back in to retrieve her diary. I wondered if she had been loud enough for me to hear on purpose, as if wanting me to confront her about things – I got the feeling that she was a lot more clever than she let on.

In the end, I decided not to go for that option and to just head home. This was the last thing on my list of desired actions to take – the first being to get some chow – and I figured that it would be better to let Homura know I was fine. And maybe ask her about a girl named Madoka, because that pinkette sure seemed to know Homura pretty well.

Wait a minute… was this the same 'Madoka' that Sayaka had mentioned two weeks prior, right before she forced me to buy women's clothing of all kinds? She had said something about that name to tease Homura, though my stoic best friend didn't respond with any aggravation – in fact, I was angrier than Homura because it involved me, too.

 _Well, whatever. I just need to get to Homura's, get some food, and go to bed. That'll make things easier for now._

I chose not to think about the fact that this whole incredibly weird process of going to school would repeat again the next day.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **So, what do you think of this? I think I did all right. Not bad, not great. Kyouko almost broke a world record after a year without running practice, which means her speed is OP as shit. I actually did research on average times and world records for the hundred meter dash just to make this chapter a bit more accurate in that department.**

 **Oh, and all five of the main characters have now made appearances! We have the ice-cold-appearing Homura, the tomboyish Sayaka, the cunning Madoka (I know this is OOC as crap, but I wanted the have fun with this slight alteration. Consider it use of my creative license), and the motherly Mami. Oh, and of course, the gender-bent, re-gender-bent, and severely gender-confused Kyouya/ko. I'm gonna have fun with this cast.**

 **Yeah, so shit's gonna go down next chapter. Homura will reveal her past mistakes! Madoka will be uncharacteristically clever! Mami will still be like a 'mommy'! Kyouya/ko will become even more confused about the way his mind and body are so different!**

 **There's your predictions. As for how much of that will really happen next chapter, I'll leave you to speculate.**

 **See you next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**

 **Yeah, I figured this thing needed some attention, so here's another chapter. The beginning is kind of awkward because I can't write scenes like that for the life of me, but the rest of the chapter flowed smoothly enough.**

 **Though this fic is Kyouko/Homura, I should probably mention that the pairings at the start are a bit… different. A lot of one-sided stuff going on, and a lot of different pairings from the end one will play out. You – well, some of you, at least – probably already figured that out from Madoka's sudden interest in Kyouko last chapter, but I decided to say it outright for those that didn't. The end pairing will still be Kyouko and Homura, but before that point, I plan to just let my whims decide who gets paired with whom – even if that means temporary pairings with one of the two protagonists involved.**

 **So, some of the things from the predictions last chapter actually came true! To be honest, there probably would have been more of them, but I totally reached three-thousand words and a good stopping point well before I originally planned to end this chapter. So now I decided to split the original chapter four into two separate chapters for the sake of keeping chapters at a reasonable length. Sorry if you were hoping for longer chapters, but it would take twice as long to write a five-k word chapter as it would to just set the goal for three-thousand, at which point things naturally try to wrap themselves up for some reason.**

 **I'll let you read now, I guess. See you at the bottom!**

* * *

I'd Rather Die

Chapter Four: Close Encounters of the Third Sexuality

* * *

 _As I left the classroom's now-fully orange glow, I heard the sound of quiet footsteps coming from behind me and moving into the room I just exited. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the pink-haired girl – Madoka, was it? She said that name in the diary – had just gone back in to retrieve her diary. I wondered if she had been loud enough for me to hear on purpose, as if wanting me to confront her about things – I got the feeling that she was a lot more clever than she let on._

 _In the end, I decided not to go for that option and to just head home. This was the last thing on my list of desired actions to take – the first being to get some chow – and I figured that it would be better to let Homura know I was fine. And maybe ask her about a girl named Madoka, because that pinkette sure seemed to know Homura pretty well._

 _Wait a minute… was this the same 'Madoka' that Sayaka had mentioned two weeks prior, right before she forced me to buy women's clothing of all kinds? She had said something about that name to tease Homura, though my stoic best friend didn't respond with any aggravation – in fact, I was angrier than Homura because it involved me, too._

Well, whatever. I just need to get to Homura's, get some food, and go to bed. That'll make things easier for now.

 _I chose not to think about the fact that this whole incredibly weird process of going to school would repeat again the next day._

* * *

When I arrived at Homura's rather large, old-fashioned house, sliding open her backdoor with relief (I had half expected it to still be locked), I found the place relatively empty. At least, Homura wasn't in her living room, which I had just invaded. I could tell she had already arrived home, though, because the lights were on again – she had turned them off when we left for school.

I sauntered straight past the living room and made my way into the beige hallway, walking through it until I reached a certain door on the left side. I turned to face it, noting with interest that it was closed for once. This door lead to Homura's room, a room I had rarely entered myself in all the years I'd known her.

But the house was otherwise empty (God knows that Homura wouldn't be in my room, which was a little further down the hall), and my stomach was almost entirely empty. I needed food after running so fast, and I couldn't cook worth a damn.

I knocked on her door before my common sense could talk me out of it. I heard something on the other side, but it barely sounded human. I couldn't tell whether that meant I should go in or not, so I decided to try to get a human confirmation through conversation.

"Yo, Homura. It's me. Can I come in?" I got straight to the point.

"Sure…" came an uncharacteristically spacey response.

I knew she probably didn't really hear me, and probably just allowed me because she didn't register my words completely, but I decided to take her one-word response at face value and just open the door. I laxly sauntered into Homura's gray and lavender room, finding her looking at a book of some sorts while sitting on her gray-covered bed.

"What'cha… looking at?" I changed what I was going to say as I realized that the book was full of photos, not words. I didn't recognize half of them, but the other half had me as a guy in them, and I remembered when most of that half were taken.

I sat on the bed beside my raven-haired best friend, looking intently at what appeared to be a photo album in her lap. I noticed that most of the pics that didn't have my male self had a certain pink-haired girl in pigtails, and I briefly wondered just how well Homura knew that Madoka chick if half her photo album was of her.

She finally registered my presence after the bed shifted to accommodate my weight. Looking up at me with a rueful smile, something completely out of character for her, she spoke.

"Oh… you're back."

"Okay, what the hell happened to you?" I asked without a second thought. "You don't smile, much less smile with regret like that. Something's wrong here."

Instead of answering me directly, my best friend looked back to the photo album, pointing to one of the pictures with the pinkie in it. After she made sure I was looking at it, she spoke.

"You've never met her, but she was one of my close friends at school," the raven-haired girl explained calmly. "Her name is Kaname Madoka. She's in the same class as us. She tries to seem innocent all the time, but she's actually really clever and sneaky."

 _Somehow, I already figured that out,_ I couldn't stop myself from at least thinking it.

"But what does this have to do with why you're so weird today…?" I had to ask. Take the bait, so to speak.

Homura looked at me with a rueful smile. "You know how I'm a lesbian, right?"

Suddenly, I didn't feel like hearing much more. I had a vague idea where this was headed, not to mention the fact that I didn't like to bring up sexual orientation with Homura, and I _really_ didn't like the sound of my suspicions. I mean, I had nothing _against_ it, but I just always got this uncomfortable feeling when the subject got brought up with us. But alas, my best friend hadn't finished her explanation, and I couldn't just cover my ears on her to shut her out. That would be a dick move.

She continued without waiting for my stunned self to reply. "Madoka is, too. For a while, I was interested in her, but… today, she told me she was interested in… you."

"W… what in the…?" This was the absolute worst possible outcome. My best friend's love interest turned out to be interested in me, but only because I became female. Meanwhile, I still hadn't sorted out my own orientation after becoming a girl, which left me at a serious disadvantage when it came to comprehending this new info rationally.

"Sorry, must be a lot to take in for you right now," my best friend did the second most uncharacteristic thing I had ever seen her do: apologize to anyone for anything.

"I, uh…" my brain was short-circuiting here. I had no idea how the hell I was supposed to respond to this kind of thing… hell, if you asked me the color of the sky right then, I'd probably hesitate for five seconds before giving up and shouting 'green'. "I mean, uh…"

I lucked out in the extreme right then. My stomach growled loudly, letting both of us know right away that I needed nourishment. Perfect timing, because it gave me the best ammo for a subject change I could think of.

But my best friend beat me to the punch. She closed the photo album with a light snap, standing up and facing me with her usual composed visage. "Well, that's enough about that. Let's have dinner, all right?"

"Y-yeah."

* * *

Despite my stomach's rather loud protests after a dinner of grilled fish, soup, salad and rice was served, I didn't eat much for the first several minutes. This could partially be attributed to my anxiety over the earlier conversation, but most of the reason was just absorption in my own thoughts about it.

Regardless, this undoubtedly marked an absolute first for me – I was playing with my food as I thought to myself.

 _What am I supposed to say to something like that? Homura, only you would talk about such things with zero hesitation… dammit, I can't even think straight anymore! My thoughts just run around in friggin' circles and—_

"If you're worried about how to respond to Madoka, don't be," my best friend read me like a book, as usual. I looked up as my circular thought pattern got interrupted, looking at Homura with wide eyes before she continued. "As far as she knows, you don't have a clue about any of what I told you. And either way, she's kind of whimsical; if you just ignore the signs for a while, she'll lose interest pretty fast."

"I… I see…" I slowly coaxed out the words, not sure whether to be relieved or… something else, another feeling I couldn't quite place. At the very least, my appetite returned a bit after this new revelation.

The rest of dinner went by in silence, mostly due to neither of us being the type to talk with our mouths full.

* * *

The next morning, I got up a little easier. I didn't need a foot in my side, which was a plus. I just took my pill, took a quick morning shower, got dressed in the uniform that was a size too small, and we were off in less than twenty minutes.

On the plus side to this development, I would have no trouble getting to school on time. On the downside, we had the reason for this development: my dreams were the most bizarre I had seen in a long time, and that's saying something. I didn't even want to sleep last night, because literally every time I passed out, the same kind of dream played out. They were… lewd dreams, and all of them ended right before anything significant happened, leaving me hot and bothered when I snapped awake and found that only a few hours passed since I last fell asleep.

Because of the bizarre dreams and constant waking up, I knew I'd probably be a bit sleep-deprived today, which meant I'd likely fall asleep in class much, much sooner. In turn, this meant I'd likely start getting pelted in the neck sooner, which meant that operation 'uncover the dream destroyer' would be underway right off the bat.

"Man, just thinking about all this crap makes me tired…" I mumbled without noticing, stifling a yawn with my hand.

"You know, it's really not like you to think so much about anything," my raven-haired best friend got a jab in at the worst time.

"Shut up, smartass," I replied without thinking. I didn't realize until it was too late that I'd just given her more fodder.

"See, that's the kind of stuff I'm used to from you," she continued her jabbing mercilessly, putting a hand to her mouth to hide the faintest of grins. "Insult-filled replies that show you didn't think before you spoke."

I merely growled, deciding that talking any more would only dig my grave further. I looked over at the raven-haired girl who I lived with, wondering just how the hell we became friends for the hundredth time since we met.

The rest of the trip to school was spent in a mock-angry, yet also comfortable, silence.

* * *

Miraculously, I didn't fall asleep throughout the first half of the day. I was tired, but only enough to keep me from paying attention to the teacher. I knew I couldn't do this every day, but I supposed if worst came to worst, I could always just do a cram session with Homura as my teacher… that's how I got into the school in the first place, after all.

In any case, lunch arrived without any major incident, and I quickly moved to the now-vacant desk beside my best friend and then joined it with hers. I opened my lunch box without further delay, chowing down as if my life depended on it.

"Slow down, you're gonna choke," said friend advised, eliciting a scowl in between bites of food. "Or eat faster, because you totally decided to ignore my warnings."

In went an eggroll, and then I responded after a little chewing. "Shut up, _mom_ , I'm hungry," I said before downing another piece of my lunch. Chew, swallow, and speak. "By the way, I'm gonna go to the arcade with Sayaka after track practice today, so I'll be home late."

I noticed that the students still remaining in the classroom all seemed to look our way at my last few words. I swore I heard a few murmurs of, 'they live together?' among other, similar questions. The looks on their faces were priceless, and I began to wonder if they were all having weird thoughts, but dismissed it as idle gossip and continued eating.

"Does she know she's going to the arcade with you?" Caught red-handed by amateur detective Homura Akemi. She knew me far, far too well.

"That would ruin it," I retorted without missing a beat. Chew, swallow, and speak again. "What kind of surprise visitor tells their host beforehand?"

"In other words, you just thought to do this this morning and decided to spring it on her the same day," Homura translated my smooth cover into exactly what it was meant to cover up – my lack of forethought.

I stopped chewing a fried shrimp for a moment to give her a glare, then finished chewing, swallowed, and spoke. "Got me. Done with your detective work for the day?"

"It's not detective work," my best friend replied, casually bending over to grab her own lunchbox for the first time. "Not when you're this easy to read."

Now, I may show my emotions on my face a lot, but I like to think that I'm not easy to totally read like that. Needless to say, the last bit offended me for a moment. But then I rationalized that if my best friend couldn't read me like a book, then we wouldn't be best friends at all, and that gave me the peace of mind to keep eating.

"By the way," Homura spoke as she undid the clasp on her drab, gray lunchbox. "When you're done with lunch, go to the nurse's office."

 _Shit, I forgot!_ Luckily, I had food in my mouth at the time, or I totally would have said that aloud for everyone in the classroom to hear. I didn't want them to know I had a real foul mouth just yet, I decided, so when I swallowed, I just said, "Sure thing."

* * *

I decided that sleepiness had to be a side-effect of my noon meds. I felt awake enough to tackle the rest of the day easy before my trip to the nurse's office to get my pill, but after downing it with a gulp of water from the sink in there and coming back to the classroom, I felt ready to pass out by the time the teacher arrived.

Not five minutes into the lesson, and I could feel my head sinking involuntarily. My fatigue made me dizzy, and I wanted so badly to just lay my head down and close my eyes for an hour. But the geezer at the front of the room teaching was a grumpy one, and if he caught me sleeping, I would surely pay.

Three more minutes ticked by, and my eyes started drooping. The dude had the absolute worst voice for a teacher, one that fit every hypnotist voice stereotype I could think of. I could see a few other kids already on the verge of passing out, and a few had even already laid down their heads.

I could feel it. With every second that ticked by, I came closer and closer to losing the battle against drowsiness. I began to wonder why I even tried to fight it – if other people were already sleeping, why shouldn't I? Besides, this guy was asking for it, talking so hypnotically.

Finally, after ten minutes of class with this novice hypnotist of a teacher (novice because if he was good at it, he could hypnotize me into paying attention in class, but I didn't see that happening), I couldn't take it anymore. My head lowered, and before long, it was resting on my desk, my hands moving out to shield my face from the light.

And then, it happened. The moment I'd been waiting for arrived. I felt something soft yet pointed pelt the back of my neck, and I instantly woke up a little, anger forcing me back into full consciousness.

With a reaction speed that put the track team to shame, I whipped my head up, turning it around with an animalistic glare to face the culprit, completely ignoring the piece of paper used as ammunition in favor of catching the perpetrator. The pink-pigtailed girl called Kaname Madoka, arm still in the position of just having thrown something due to my unexpectedly fast reaction, could only look at my agitated visage with a shocked expression.

"Sakura-san and Kaname-san," the hypnotic voice paused in its ramblings to address the both of us by name. I gulped as I turned to face the angry teacher. "Since you both seem perfectly content with ignoring the lesson, I will assume you already know the concepts behind it."

He then wrote two math problems (it occurred to me rather belatedly that he must have been a math teacher) on the board, then turned to us. "Each of you will solve one of these."

I looked at the problems, and recognition flared in my brain. This was one of the types of problems that Homura made me do a few of when she was trying to get me into the school… which meant that she was actually teaching me things that likely hadn't been introduced to the curriculum here yet. I would have no problem doing one, but I still felt a little mad at my best friend for making me do things she hadn't even done in class yet.

I grumbled something unintelligible, then stood up and walked up to the chalkboard. I picked up a piece of chalk and began on the left problem, not once looking back to see if Madoka got up with me.

After correctly solving the complex algebra in front of me and dealing with the rather shocked face of the teacher, not to mention the rest of the class, nobody, not even pinkie, interrupted my napping for the rest of the period.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **So, I totally made Homura pull a fast one on Kyouko and force her to do more work than she needed to in order to get into school. But because of this, Kyouko knows what's going to be taught in class ahead of time, and suddenly looks really smart because of it. I wonder what kind of misunderstandings this will cause… I totally have ideas for that now. Like having people misunderstand and think Kyouko is a genius, or something like that. The possibilities are totally endless in that route!**

 **Anyway, what do you think? Personally, I think the beginning felt forced, but I really can't write scenes like that to save my life, so this mechanical writing was the best I could pull off. Either way, I would still love some reviews… assuming anybody actually cares enough to write one. I need critique to improve, right?**

 **Predictions for next chapter: if it looks like KyouSaya, but the fic pairing tags say otherwise, it's…**

 **Okay, I'm gonna let you go. Gotta work on some other stuff now, then I'll get back to this again!**

 **See you all next chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**

 **I'm not quite satisfied with where I left this chapter off, but I felt like continuing any further would just make it worse, so I stopped it at a cliffhanger, kinda.**

 **The prediction from last chapter came true, sort of. I made this story seem like a KyouSaya one with this chapter, because I like that pairing as well, and I thought Sayaka deserved more screen time – um, page time. So yeah, blame my whimsical nature and the lack of good KyouHomu fics that aren't way too long. And the surplus of KyouSaya fics, ignoring the variable quality of most of them.**

 **Also, Kyouya/ko reveals another hidden talent in this chapter! Who knew she was so good at that game…? Well, a lot of people write about it, regardless of whether it's in the source material or not (I don't actually know if Kyouko ever played it in canon, since I haven't watched the anime or read the manga for Madoka Magica because Madoka is too bland a character to center things around).**

 **Also, also, another character is introduced this chapter! He's a side character in this fic, and yes, it's a male, Godoka forbid. I also added an OC because I only know of one significant male character in canon, and couldn't think of anyone else to add, so I just used a name of a male character from Fate/Zero.**

 **I'll let you read now. Enjoy and I'll see you at the bottom!**

* * *

I'd Rather Die

Chapter Five: (Not) Like Old Times

* * *

 _I looked at the problems, and recognition flared in my brain. This was one of the types of problems that Homura made me do a few of when she was trying to get me into the school… which meant that she was actually teaching me things that likely hadn't been introduced to the curriculum here yet. I would have no problem doing one, but I still felt a little mad at my best friend for making me do things she hadn't even done in class yet._

 _I grumbled something unintelligible, then stood up and walked up to the chalkboard. I picked up a piece of chalk and began on the left problem, not once looking back to see if Madoka got up with me._

 _After correctly solving the complex algebra in front of me and dealing with the rather shocked face of the teacher, not to mention the rest of the class, nobody, not even pinkie, interrupted my napping for the rest of the period._

* * *

I rapped haphazardly on the door in front of me, my constant knocking only serving to annoy even myself. How the hell would anybody take this long to answer a freaking door? I knew she was home, she had nowhere to be on a Tuesday anyway, and there's no way I'd caught her in the middle of anything important. All she did at home was laze around or play video games, with late-night studying for her co-ed school.

"Hurry the hell up, moron," I muttered through clenched teeth as I continued to knock. "Damn, I'm so bored… get out here!"

Then, almost as if on cue, the door opened from the inside, and I noticed a mop of blue hair, still slightly damp. It occurred to me that the one who answered the door probably just got out of the shower, and took so long to answer because she had to put clothes on.

"You know, you could just come in, Kyouya," the barely-restrained look of annoyance settled upon my host's visage didn't intimidate me at all, though I did feel a bit strange being called my old name for the first time all day. "I gave you a spare key a long time ago, even though the door is usually unlocked."

"That key's back at my apartment, and I haven't been there in weeks," I replied honestly. I reached a hand out and grabbed the blue-haired girl's wrist in the next moment, tugging on it lightly. "Now come on, Sayaka. We're going to the arcade."

"Any reason I wasn't informed of this?" the blunette asked for good measure. "Or did you just think of doing it earlier today?"

Sayaka was probably the second best person at reading me, right behind blackie the buzzkill. The main difference between the two girls, other than appearance, was their level of enthusiasm towards almost everything. Homura didn't put her full self into anything, but Sayaka gave her all at everything.

Which, sometimes, made the blunette much more fun to hang out with (but sometimes much more excruciating, especially when we argued). Therefore, I decided to bring her with me to the arcade instead of Homura, where I planned to test my motor skills and have fun at the same time. Well, that and another, unspoken test that would be over before we got there.

I let go of my tag-along's wrist so she could get ready, then spoke. "I thought I'd let it be a surprise, but I do have a reason for going. I want to test something out, and getting to have a blast while I do it is a must."

Sayaka got a look in her eyes that said two things. First, she knew the 'surprise' bit was bullshit (I knew beforehand that the excuse wouldn't work, but I said it because I didn't want to vocalize the true reason), and second, she was considering whether or not to go. I knew that at this point, pestering her about it would not help my situation, so I decided to wait it out.

After almost ten seconds, she finally reached a decision. "Fine," she said, retreating into her house but leaving the door open for me to come in. "Just let me finish getting ready first. Make yourself at home while you wait."

* * *

I didn't often think about romance back when I was a boy. I stole to live, so thoughts like whether I'd ever get a girlfriend or have kids rarely crossed my mind. But when I hung out with the few friends I had, a good portion of whom happened to be female against all odds, thoughts like that made themselves more apparent.

The one where those thoughts popped up the most was Sayaka. When I competed with the blunette, I always felt the most alive I ever had. And because of our mutually competitive nature, that happened a lot. Appearances aside (her hair was too short for my tastes, she totally wasted those awesome blue locks), she'd really would make a good girlfriend, I often found myself thinking.

The reason I never pursued it was simple: the competition was all there was to our friendship. It would be stupid to start a relationship with someone based solely on how I felt while competing with her. And if we weren't competing, we were fighting over something. It seemed like half the time we hung out was just so we could apologize to each other sometimes.

Well, that, and she unintentionally friend-zoned me _all_ _the freaking time_. She didn't even realize it, I'm sure, but her way of talking about how we were _friends_ every ten minutes really dowsed any fire there could've been between us. So I just let my thoughts run wild sometimes, and that was enough for me. Besides, it's not like romance would've added anything significant to my life. If anything, it'd make it about ten times harder. Have to remember to pilfer from the grocery store for the week's meals, pickpocket ten people for this month's rent money, _and_ make it to date night on time, with _money_ to blow? No fucking thanks.

But those reasons didn't stop those dusty old thoughts from creeping up on me again. Even with a girl's body and hormones, I still found myself thinking about Sayaka as a girlfriend. Looking at it realistically, not much would change. Probably just a kiss here and there, and… the stuff that comes after, but other than that, we'd be the same as before.

I told Sayaka that I wanted to test something, and that had been true… partially. I actually wanted to test a few things, not just one. One of them was whether I still liked girls or not, because no matter what body and hormones I may have had, I still had the brain of a dude.

Which raised an interesting, yet also very scary to think about, philosophical question: would that make me a… lesbian? In every way except for the mind, I had become a girl. But because the mind was left the same as before, I still seemed to like girls, even though I had become one. So did that make me straight, or a lesbian?

"Hey, Kyouya. We're here, you can stop spacing out now," my blue-haired companion spoke in a slightly irked tone, bringing me out of thoughts I didn't want to think about.

In front of us was a large, beige, one-story building. The doors had a sign above them, but it didn't say anything other than 'arcade' in neon lettering. Its generic name was proof that this town really didn't have anything going on, just like I remembered. The only arcade for milometers didn't even have a unique name. Talk about living in the boonies… or, at least, compared to being in Tokyo, as I had been for the past year or so before coming back home.

"Yeah," I eventually forced the word out as we walked up to the door. "Time for the second test."

"Second? Wasn't there only one—"

"That I told you about," I interrupted my friend and finished her sentence for her without hesitation, grabbing the front-left door's handle. "And anyway, the first test finished up on the walk here."

Yeah, I reached a conclusion regarding test number one, a test of my sexual preference. I definitely still liked girls. There was no way I could deny that now, after the things I had been thinking on the walk over (you don't want to know). I still didn't know whether that made me a lesbian or not, that aspect was still confusing to me, but at the very least, I liked girls. That much was an undeniable fact.

"Whatever you say," Sayaka relented as I opened the door, and a blast of techno music released itself out into the streets. "Let me know what I can do to help with your test, okay?"

Despite dragging me along for things I'd really rather die than do (refer to chapter one), Sayaka always seemed to have the best intentions when we interacted. Our ways of thinking could be so different, yet also so painfully similar at times, that these 'best intentions' would often lead to trouble, but she always had an eye out for the thieving, lying, cursing, bad influence of a friend I happened to be. Even now, she really put herself out on a limb with offering to help with a test she knew nothing about, something few other people would do for me.

"Thanks," I replied, beginning to walk into the dim lighting and techno music ahead of her. "I'll probably take you up on that, so be prepared."

* * *

"What exactly… are you trying… to test?" Sayaka spared a few moments of partial concentration to asking me my intent.

At that moment, we were playing the DDR machine, doing the mode where you compete against the person next to you, whatever its name was. At the start, we were relatively even, but as time wore on, my partner began to miss a few beats every now and again. After about fifteen minutes of constant dancing, going from song to song and gradually increasing the difficulty, the disparity in our scores only grew, as I hadn't missed a single beat since I started.

What I had planned to test at the arcade was just how fast my reflexes were. I knew they were fast, but I wanted hard data on just how fast they were, since my male self had fast reflexes as well. So I decided to test it by seeing if I could beat my old high score on the most difficult songs, which were the high scores on this machine, last I checked a year ago.

In order to do that, I decided to acclimate myself to the system again first, since I hadn't played the game in over a year. In order to make it more fun, I decided to go with a friend who was also good enough to get in the top ten on a few of the more difficult songs. Hence why I dragged along Sayaka, one of the better players in the neighborhood.

When I was a guy through and through, a lot of people who would watch me called my style 'perfect hurricane', though it didn't have a nice ring to it in my opinion. In reality, what I ended up doing to get this name involved utilizing a lot of spinning movements to mix it up and keep it fun, but those movements didn't at all interfere from getting perfect scores on all but three of the songs, each of which would have me miss one or two beats in the faster parts. To do the spinning without screwing myself over, I had to memorize everything on the screen the split second before my eyes left it entirely, then act out all the arrows while I spun until my eyes could watch the screen again. Not super hard to do, but not a cakewalk, either, especially when certain movements would make spinning legs cross over each other.

Today, however, I actually noticed a subtle difference in my reaction time from before. I was a fair bit faster, and on top of that, I curbed the speed of my spin by about a fourth of a second because the initial motion had more push. By the time I started on one of the songs where spinning always messed me up at this difficulty (we had just elevated to the highest setting), I actually felt pretty confident that I could get away with it.

And I did. I actually managed to spin in the fastest part of the song without missing a single beat. Every arrow I hit while spinning registered as 'perfect', and it surprised me so much that I almost missed the next beat after I finished. I didn't, though, and for the first time since I played that song the first time, I actually got a perfect score.

Which brings us up to speed. Sayaka suggested we try a different song that wasn't as hard, so we moved down a difficulty and picked a song of her choice. It was easy enough that I could do it in my sleep, but it required a bit of concentration from my blue-haired friend.

"I wanted to test my reflexes," I answered her question after thinking about it a bit during a spin. "You know, see if they were faster than before or not. They are, by the way."

"I see…" she mumbled loud enough for me to hear over the music. "Hey… after this song… let's get a drink."

"Okay, but you're paying," I informed her. I didn't bring any money because I had a lot of credit saved up at this arcade, but I made the mistake of thinking I could rely on that credit built up by a male as I was right then. Therefore, Sayaka had to use her credit and money to pay for us so far, and it wouldn't be any different for drinks, either.

"Figured," she relented without putting up a fight.

* * *

After sitting down at a booth in the snack area, drinks in hand, we both immediately let out a loud sigh. That had been relatively taxing, to constantly be moving for well over twenty minutes. Sayaka looked more worn out than I did, slumping onto the table in a rather dramatic fashion.

Unfortunately, we didn't get the chance to even sip from our drinks before we were rudely interrupted by some random punks. "Hey, ladies," one of them, wearing a black beanie over his dyed-brown hair, called out to us as the posse of three dudes approached.

I recognized these morons – well, two out of three, anyway, with the one in back being a new face to me. They were the kind of scum that lived for harassing chicks, so I never hung out with them due to my disinterest in their style of interacting with others, especially women.

I almost asked if they were talking to us before realizing the stupidity of such a question. Back when I was a guy and would drag Sayaka over to this arcade, these punks wouldn't interfere because we often looked like a couple to outsiders. But now, I was essentially a girl, so that protection kinda didn't work anymore.

 _Shit, this is annoying,_ I thought to myself, looking over to my blue-haired friend with eyes that asked, 'can I punch them, please?'. But I noticed her eyes were drawn to the dude in back, who wore considerably nicer dress (he could go go a high-class party wearing that shit!) and actually maintained a style with his grayish hair. I couldn't tell whether it was gray or brown in this lighting, but it definitely stood out a fair amount.

The dude looked decently presentable, in stark contrast to the disgustingly casual and crude dress that the other boys wore. They looked like a perverted monkey dressed them (I won't repeat what was on their shirts), and they really just repulsed me overall.

 _I wonder is Sayaka knows that dude in back,_ I pondered the question in my mind before turning to the other two punks. "Can I help you?" I asked them curtly, trying to give them as little as possible to use as pickup lines.

"You can start by giving me your number," the one in the beanie continued to speak for the group.

Something snapped in my head at the exact moment. "Sorry," I said as I gave his right foot a good stomp with my left. "Not. Interested."

After each word I uttered, I stomped on his foot again, alternating which one to target each time. I could see tears pricking at his eyes from the pain, but he didn't cry out, so I guess I had to give him kudos for endurance. But still, he looked freaking hilarious as he held back his screams, and I almost cracked up, before remembering I was supposed to be angry.

"Kirei, you're going too fast with these things," the boy in back said, brushing a stray hair out of his eyes as he put a hand on the beanie-boy's shoulder. "If you want to succeed in your endeavors, you have to stop being so hasty."

He turned to me with a nice smile on his face as he walked to the front of the group. I could tell it wasn't a purely friendly smile, but it held more amusement at his friend's screw-up and my response to it than it did lust for me or Sayaka. To be honest, the smile put me at ease a bit because I myself had wanted to let out a laugh after seeing the beanie boy try so hard not to howl in pain.

"Sorry for my friend's mistake," he said gently. This guy really knew how to put someone at ease, I guess – he totally acknowledged the reason I was a bit peeved in the first place, then even apologized for it. "My name is Kyousuke. Might I ask your name?"

I hesitated for a moment. Did I really want to give out my name to these sleaze-balls? But this guy was actually coming across like a decent person, so if I considered it telling only him, with the other two just around to hear it, it didn't sound so bad. In the end, I decided to say the name I had been going by for the past several days, rather than my real name.

"Kyouko," I replied, a lot of the barely-restrained anger from before having left my tone.

"Nice to meet you, Kyouko," he replied, his tone and expression betraying not an ounce of deception. Maybe I could really trust this guy… but considering who he hung out with, not likely.

Still, I decided to be at least a little polite, since he himself hadn't been rude to me yet, even though I'd totally attacked his bud. "Likewise." I gave him a one-word answer again.

At the moment, I noticed he hadn't introduced himself to Sayaka or asked for her name. So he probably knew her, like I thought, but it still didn't explain why he didn't even greet her. I wondered what happened, but decided not to ask until the trio had left, or until we left without them.

"I saw your moves on the dance machine," the polite one – I really needed to start calling him by name now that I knew his – said. My body tensed at my style being recognized, but stopped and relaxed at his next statement. "You were pretty amazing. I've never seen anyone incorporate so many spins into their moves and still get a perfect score on every song they played through."

So the secret wasn't out, I figured. But still, they had been watching us since the DDR machine? How much of that did they watch? Were they there for the whole thing, or were they just there to see the last few minutes? But he said 'every song I played through', so it must've been at least a few songs… creeps.

Still, for the sake of keeping up appearances, I decided to be polite a little longer. "Thanks, I guess. It's not that hard, though."

Really, it hadn't been hard at all until the second to last song (because Sayaka picked the last one), so it wasn't an understatement that it wasn't hard for me. My reflexes were an eighth of a second faster, and my spins lasted a fourth second less due to curbing down on unnecessary movements and subtraction of weight, so songs that seemed hard to get perfect scores on a year ago had become significantly easier. Ah, the wonders of scientifically-enhanced muscles.

Just before he continued the conversation, I decided I'd had enough of playing nice. I looked over at my blue-haired friend who had been totally ignored since their greeting, catching her attention. "Sayaka. What time is it right now?"

She seemed to get the hint after I caught her focus, getting her cell phone out of her pocket and looking at the time on its lock screen. "Time for us to go," she played along with my desperate need to escape before things got ugly.

"Gotcha," I said before either of the two sleazebags standing next to us could object. "Let's go."

We both stood up to leave, our drinks ignored, and the punks didn't put up any resistance. Mostly because Kyousuke stood in front of the other two, and he didn't offer any, since he seemed to be a polite dude, at least on the outside.

"See you around, Kyouko," he called as we walked away.

"Sure," I gave a half-assed response, though in my head, the reply came out differently. _Not likely, man. I'm not interested in you, so just beat it already._

The moment we left the arcade, I turned to Sayaka, looking at the vacant expression in her blue eyes. I decided I had to know just what was going on that I hadn't been able to understand in the arcade.

"Sayaka," I started, getting her to look up into my eyes before continuing. I tried to choose my words carefully while still getting the point across. "That Kyousuke guy. You know him, right? He didn't ask for your name or introduce himself to you."

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **Totally left that on a sort of cliffhanger. Now we get to have Sayaka explain who Kyousuke is, and why he was hanging out with the other dudes that Kyouya/ko doesn't like. Look forward to that at the start of next chapter.**

 **What'd I tell you? I've been overwhelmed by the sheer amount of KyouSaya fics that get published and updated so often on this site, to the extent that it's poisoned my KyouHomu fic… or at least, that's one way to look at it. I like to think of it as a bit less unintentional and a lot more whimsical. I like KyouSaya as well, so adding a bit of that subtext just felt fine for me.**

 **Actually, I like every yuri Kyouko pairing… she literally goes well with every female character you can pair her with… except for Hitomi. Seriously, KyouSaya, KyouMami, KyouHomu, MadoKyou, she goes well with every main character as long as the story is written well (conversely, if the story isn't written well, she doesn't go well with** _ **any**_ **character, in my opinion). But that's just my personal opinion, you're welcome to agree or disagree.**

 **So, with the author's notes, this topped 4-k words. Nice. It's really about 3600, but these notes kind of bump up the count by about 650, and FFnet counts contractions as two words, which ups the count even more. As for why it even got that high, I just wasn't at the place where I wanted to stop yet when I hit 3-k, so I decided to keep going. Besides, I was on a roll at the time, so it didn't matter. About the last 1500 words were written today, and the 1300 words before that were written yesterday, so I've really been making progress on this one recently.**

 **By the way, I'd love it if people would take the time to review. I need critique to improve, and this story is one of my favorites to write on, so it'd be great if you could review if you have an opinion of it, positive or negative.**

 **Predictions for next chapter: Sayaka explains Kyousuke's poor choice in friends! Kyouya/ko arrives home and finds s/he and Homura are not alone! Kyouya/ko joins a new, unofficial club with sketchy requirements and even sketchier members!**

 **Once again, how many of those predictions come true is subject to my whims and chapter-cramming skills.**

 **Well, I'll let you go. It's four in the morning, and I'm about ready to have my dinner (my sleep-wake schedule is** _ **seriously**_ **messed up, I know). See you all next chapter!**


End file.
